Twenty-One Guns
by Dima02
Summary: What would you do to make all your dreams come true? How much will you give to create a new world? Ralf Pak has always dreamed of building utopias and beautiful aircraft, but he and his hopes perished in a fiery wreck. In the afterlife, the SSS offers Pak and his dreams a second chance. He secretly sets out on his ultimate quest: uniting humanity under the hammer and sickle.
1. Introduction and Character Descriptions

**Author's Note and Prologue:**

Hello, my fellow _Angel Beats_ fans! It's such a pleasure to meet all of you. I'm really impressed by the amazing literary and musical masterpieces that the fan community has produced. The canon _Angel Beats_ story may have ended, but you guys are doing an awesome job of keeping the fandom alive. Keep it up!

I've long been an avid fan of anime, and I've always been fascinated by stories of redemption. I love reading and listening to tales in which people are given a second chance—an opportunity to fix everything wrong with their lives. I remember the joy I felt upon reading the final chapters of _A Christmas Carol_, when Scrooge is transformed into a new man. Like the Roman poet Ovid, I'm intrigued by changing forms and new entities.

When I first discovered the works of Jun Maeda, _Angel Beats_ was not on the top of my watch list. I was only expecting a simple, charming story about life (with cute girls and guns too). I got more than I could have ever wished for. The story was so deep and pitch-perfect. It wasn't just a story about life. It was a story about friendship. It was a story about hope. It was a story about sacrifice. It was a story about everything. I learned more from twelve episodes of _Angel Beats _than from an entire semester of dry philosophy lectures at Columbia University.

I cried buckets when _Angel Beats _ended. The ending was perfect. I can think of no way in which the ending could have improved. But, of course, I did not want the show to end. The story has become such large part of my life. I couldn't simply let it go.

So after talking to some of the _Angel Beats_ fans at school, I decided to write my own fanfiction. Much like the original story, it's a story about redemption, friendship and life. The story follows all of the characters in the original anime, although the events towards the beginning of the story take place before Otonashi's arrival in the afterlife. Do not worry though, for all of the characters that we've gotten to love while watching those twelve (or thirteen) episodes will star in this story. The first few chapters may coincide with events in the anime, but the stories will eventually diverge.

This story follows the life and afterlife of Ralf Jin Pak, an aircraft designer who ends up in the afterlife. I was inspired by many examples of men who endured seemingly impossible hardships in order to push the boundaries of science. I was inspired by Miyazaki's _The Wind Rises_ as well as real historical characters such as Sergei Korolev and Andrei Tupolev (Soviet aeronautical engineers). But in addition to being an engineer and scientist, Pak is also a cunning political leader with questionable goals. This darker side of his personality was inspired by Light Yagami (from _Death Note_) and Rodion Raskolnikov (from _Crime and Punishment_). The first few chapters are narrated by Pak, but not all the chapters are told from his point of view. Some chapters also contain flashbacks from other characters. I'll try to state the narrator and chorology of the chapter at the very beginning, in order to avoid confusion.

Throughout the story, I've incorporated bits and pieces of my other passions: history and science. I realize that not all of the references may be familiar to the reader. I've added a "Jargon Dictionary" to the end of each chapter to guide you through the quagmire of obscure references. However, if you stumble upon a reference that you do not understand, please let me know. I'll try to add an explanation as soon as possible.

I've read the fanfictions written by Furiouswind and was inspired by his style. (Thanks, man. You're awesome!) I've drawn out my character on my DeviantArt account to help you guys visualize the characters. You can just search my name on DeviantArt; it's also Dima02. You can also use the following link (add the http yourself and combine the three lines into one link):

Fav.

me/

d8do90o

(Update: You can also just search "Ralf Jin Pak" on Google Images. His picture should be the first to come up. It's the picture with a SSS emblem in the background.)

You can read a little about the background of the character on the DeviantArt page. I may or may not add more biographical information about him on my DeviantArt account, so there may be spoilers on that website. However, I've copied the all the spoiler-free parts of my character description into the rest of the chapter.

I'm also welcoming you guys to submit your own characters and include them in this fanfiction. If you wish to include your own character into this fanfiction, please leave the story a review. (I do not always check my PM). Please include some basic information about your character and a brief description of the character's personality, skills, and background. The description does not have to be extremely detailed, but more detailed descriptions will definitely enhance the chances of your character being selected. However, for the purpose of providing a cohesive story, I have to reserve the final say in how your character acts throughout the story, although I will try my best to keep their actions true to their personalities. Also, this may be a bit of a spoiler (so skip the rest of the paragraph if you do not want the plot to be spoiled), but your OCs do not have to have Japanese names. In fact, if you could give your OC a Korean, Chinese, Russian, or even English name, that'd be great!

Unlike the original anime, my story will be darker in nature. Some of the descriptions may be somewhat graphic, for there will be a lot of fighting. Additionally, I'm planning to include some historical political figures into my story, so the story may carry some political undertones. This story is not intended an endorsement or condemnation of any political movement or party. I only seek to condemn violence and extremism while highlighting the value of cooperation, trust, compromise and pragmatism. Regardless of your own political orientation or nationality, you should be able to enjoy the story.

The vast majority of the story will be in English, but there may occasionally be phrases from other languages. As I do not speak most of the languages that are used in the story, I cannot verify the accuracy of some of the translations. (Google Translate has its limits). If you spot any errors, please provide me with the correct translation. Thank you so much.

The actual story starts in the next chapter. The rest of this chapter is just a character description. I do not own _Angel Beats_. _Angel Beats _is property of Jun Maeda, ASCII Media Works, P.A. Works and is licensed by Sentai Filmworks. Please support the official release.

So, without further ado, please, sit back and enjoy this story! And be sure to add it to your favorites and/or leave a review!

* * *

><p><strong>Character Descriptions:<strong>

**Name:** Ralf Jin Pak (박진/朴晉/パク・ジン)

Ralf Jin Pak is leader of the Saenuri Commonwealth and the main character in _All Quiet on the Battlefront_. An engineering genius and brilliant polymath, Pak possesses extensive knowledge in science, literature, politics, and history. He is also gifted with an eidetic memory, which allows him to recite volumes of famous literary works from memory. Pak is also fluent in seven languages and can recreate virtually all weapons built during World War II.

Born in a small village on Sakhalin Island, Ralf proved himself to be an exceptional student and went on to attend school in Korea, China and the Soviet Union. He was later sent to study in Germany, receiving an honorary engineering degree from Munich Technical College at age 18. He was involved in the development of many of Germany's most fearsome war machines, including the Me-262 jet fighter and the V-1 buzz bomb.

Ralf arrives in the afterlife with autobiographical memory loss, unable to recall details about his personal life. However, his semantic memory is unaffected. He begins to work in the Guild, where his knowledge of weaponry is used to produce heavy weapons and equipment, including tanks and warplanes.

Heavily influenced by Marxist ideology, Ralf believes that those in the afterlife should seek to build a utopian society within the afterlife realm. He establishes the Saenuri Commonwealth, a nation of "complete selflessness and unerring good." However, Ralf's ideology clash strongly with those of Otonashi and Kanade, who want people to cope with their pasts and move on.

**Born:** July 24, 1925

Tomarioru, Karafuto Prefecture, Empire of Japan

(Modern Tomari, Sakhalin Oblast, Russian Federation)

**Died:** July 23, 1944 (age 18)

Kaarst, Düsseldorf Gaue, German Reich

(Modern Kaarst, North Rhine-Westphalia, Federal Republic of Germany)

**Education:** Munich Technical College

**Ordinance Weapons:**

Panzerbüchse 39 anti-tank rifle

MP 40 submachine gun

Walther P38 semi-automatic pistol

Gerber Mark II fighting knife

**Mechanized Weapons:**

Volkswagen Type 82 Kübelwagen light utility vehicle

Panzerkampfwagen V Panther medium tank

Messerschmitt Bf 109G-10 fighter

Ilyushin Il-2 Strumovik ground-attack aircraft

**Appearance:**

Ralf Pak is a tall teenage male, with long red hair and brownish eyes. His most striking feature is the eyepatch over his right eye. He also has a prominent scar running down his right cheek. His scar, eyepatch, and height cause many people mistake him for a delinquent or gangster, although he is usually polite and soft-spoken.

Pak is a Korean-Chinese-Russian mix, and he displays characteristics of all three ethnicities. His hair is a dark red color, a trait inherited from his Russian grandfather. His facial features, however, look Korean, and it was said that he strongly resembles his Korean father. Despite all his scars, many girls consider him to be quite handsome due to his "bad boy" looks.

He is seen either in the standard SSS uniform or in a modified Luftwaffe uniform. He always keeps a Walther P38 pistol in a hidden holster underneath his jacket in case of emergencies.

**Personality:**

Due to his background, Pak is headstrong and determined. He is used to a life of hardship and can endure a great amount of both physical and mental strain. However, he is also very serious, arrogant, and has a low tolerance to forgive failure. He has a very collected attitude, rarely allowing his emotions to get into the way of business. However, he is sometimes prone to bouts of anger, especially when people fail to meet his expectations.

As he devoted a large portion of his life towards the pursuit of knowledge, he is very intelligent and well-versed in both science and art. He is also very charismatic, thanks to his ability to quote directly from classic literature and political speeches.

Another one of Pak's defining traits is a complete and utter obsession with socialism and utopianism. He speaks of a coming socialist utopia with an almost religious fervor, and he cares little for the means to reach such a state.

Despite his preoccupation with creating perfect machines and societies, Pak is very proud and protective of his humanity, which he defines as his willpower and "soul". During one battle, he rejects the temptation to use Angel Player to augment his own abilities and ensure his success, even when he is on the verge of defeat. It is this pride that leads to Pak's hatred of Kanade, who he views as a monster and an inferior being for sacrificing her humanity for power.

**Quotes:**

"The poor man who takes property by force is called a thief, but the creditor who can by legislation make a debtor pay a dollar twice as large as he borrowed is lauded as the friend of a business. The man who wants the people to destroy the Government is an anarchist, but the man who wants the Government to destroy the people is a patriot."

"Destiny is not a matter of chance; it is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for; it is a thing to be achieved."

"Terror is only justice: prompt, severe and inflexible; it is then an emanation of virtue; it is less a distinct principle than a natural consequence of the general principle of democracy, applied to the most pressing wants of the people."


	2. Mute and Inglorious

**Chapter 1: Mute and Inglorious (Pak)  
><strong>

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

I was travelling through the Valley of Death, but I feared no evil. I was at 2000 feet and climbing. I was in the realm of god.

But then, everything ended. I was thrown from the sky in a hail of bullets.

I was sure all that'd be left of me was a splatter of bones and flesh. A bloody indistinguishable smear on the grass. By all logic, at the speed I was falling, that's what should have happened.

But it didn't.

* * *

><p>My name is Ralf Jin Pak, and I am dead. There is no doubt whatsoever about that. The death certificate was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and my company commander. Two farmers and a priest buried my body under an elm tree in the sleepy little town of Kaarst, Germany. There were no ceremonial processions or eulogies or music; I was merely tossed into a hole in the ground and forgotten. No one showed up to mourn my passing, for I died as I had lived—mute and inglorious.<p>

I fell on the night of Saturday, July 23rd, 1944—the day before my 19th birthday. The date also marked the seventh anniversary of my arrival in Europe. I had come pretty far in those six years. I rose from a humble student to one of the youngest aircraft designers in Germany. I was the protégé of none other than Willy Messerschmitt himself. My projects ranged from improving the Me-410 heavy fighter to developing the new Me-262 interceptor. I had a bright path ahead of me, but none of that matters now. I lost everything when I fell.

* * *

><p>I opened my eyes. I was laying under a picturesque night sky. Everything was eerily calm. There were no bursts of flak, searchlights or vapor trails from enemy aircraft. All I could see were stars and a few clouds lazily floating across the dark sky.<p>

Where was I? How did I survive?

I sat up, expecting to see the burning wreckage of a Fieseler Fi 156 Stork scattered all around me. I saw nothing. Nothing except some trees and shrubs lit by the moonlight. What happened? Had someone dragged me away from the wreckage?

The smell of smoke and gasoline fumes continued to linger in my nostrils, and I was still nauseous and dizzy from the spiraling fall. I pressed my temples, trying to ease away the pain. I couldn't really remember the last few seconds of my fateful flight, but I could remember just how much I feared for my life. The right wing was on fire, and one horizontal stabilizer was missing. I was doing everything I could to save the wounded aircraft, but nothing seemed to work. My life flashed before my eyes. The last thing I could remember was the ground looming towards me. My memory went blank after that.

I had no idea how I survived the crash without any injuries. Maybe I had somehow managed to regain control and crash-land the plane at the last second. Maybe some branches and trees broke my fall. Or maybe, just maybe… there really was someone watching over me. But regardless, my survival was a true miracle. I swore to myself that I'd never try to fly again—at least not before the end of the war.

I drew a deep breath and leaned against a tree, trying to get my bearings. I looked down and saw that I was dressed in some kind of uniform. It wasn't my Luftwaffe uniform though; it looked like something that schoolboys wore in China and Japan. I couldn't recall ever seeing them; maybe the person who rescued me also gave me a new set of clothes.

"Hello? Hilfe! Is anyone here? Kann jemand mir helfen?" I shouted at the top of my lungs. There was not a single soul around. At first, everything was quiet. The only sound was the chirping of cicadas. But then, I heard the faint sound of approaching footsteps. Rescue was finally here.

"Stop shouting. You'll give away our position." A female voice whispered in Japanese. A young girl emerged from behind one of the trees. She put her index finger to her lips, making the gesture to stay quiet. She then stuck out her other hand and gestured me to follow her.

I tilted my head and squinted at the girl standing before me. I was still in Germany, wasn't I? Why did she use Japanese?

There was a long pause. The girl tapped her foot impatiently. "Well, are you coming or not?" she whispered again. "You do speak Japanese, don't you?" The girl let out a quick sigh and slowly walked towards me. The moonlight began to illuminate her face. It was hard to tell that she was Japanese. She was dressed in a Japanese sailor fuku but had magenta-colored hair and green eyes. It was rare to see other Asians in Germany. There was a handful of Japanese engineers and students studying in the universities, but most of them were male. I hadn't seen a girl in years. She was quite pretty too. She looked to be right around my age. Her posture and movements were graceful and spritely, but her expression was dead serious, as if she were analyzing the best way to take me down in a fight.

I struggled to recall the Japanese I learned back on Sakhalin Island. "Yes, Fraulein. My name is Ralf Jin Pak. My plane was shot down. Have you seen my plane?"

"There is no plane," she replied calmly, "And you're dead. You're in the afterlife."

What? Did I hear her correctly? Afterlife? Was I really dead? I didn't feel dead; I felt fine. I couldn't possibly be dead, could I? I could still feel the cold tree trunk behind me and the cool breeze on my face. I was eighteen; I was at my physical prime. It takes more than a simple fall to kill someone like me. No, I wasn't dead. It was all a misunderstanding. I just needed to brush up on my Japanese; I just misheard her. That was all.

"Sorry, Fraulein, uh…" I scratched my head, struggling to find the right words, "Could you please tell me where I am?"

"You are _dead_. This is the afterlife."

I heard correctly this time. I fell silent. I remember it all too clearly—my plane, the de Havilland Mosquito, the stream of bullets, and the spiraling fall. I felt dizzy just thinking about it. No one could survive a fall from that height. But then again, miracles do happen, right? And plus, if I were dead, I'd know, right?

The magenta-haired girl continued to glance at me coldly. She crossed her arms and tapped her feet impatiently. Finally, she broke the silence, "I'm Yuri Nakamura—the leader of the Not-Dead-Yet Battlefront, the SSS. I know this sounds sudden, but could you please join up with us?" She extended her hand in a gesture of friendship.

I was hesitant to shake her hand. My mind struggled to comprehend. "I'm sorry. I'm a little confused here. Am I really dead? I don't understand what's going on," I replied weakly. Thoughts rushed through my head. I couldn't think. My vision became blurry. What if I were really dead? What's going to happen to my family? My friends? My entire life? Was it all gone now? No, my life wasn't great; it wasn't good at all. But it was still my life. Was it over? Had everything I've known simply terminated? What if I were really dead?

Yuri rolled her eyes a little. "Look, how many times do I have to tell you? You really are dead. This is the afterlife. Would you like me to prove it to you?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Please do."

I saw a mischievous smile slowly spread across her face. She did look cute though, with a smile like that. However, my delight soon turned to horror. Before I knew it, I was staring down the barrel of a pistol.

"I can shoot you in the head and you won't die. Want to test it out?" I froze in horror. The pistol was pointed right between my eyes. My muscles tensed up; sweat dripped down the side of my face. How could anyone say something like that so calmly? Was she crazy?

"Nein! Oh Hölle nein!" I screamed, backing away from the psychopath in front of me. "Verpiss dich." Everything was just a blur. My instincts kicked in. I hit her in the wrist, hoping to knock the pistol out of her hand. Fortunately, I did manage to catch her off-guard. The pistol hit the dirt with a resounding crack. I turned as fast as I could and ran off in the opposite direction, doing everything I could to get away from the.

"Wait, come back. I won't shoot. I promise," she screamed. The girl was insane, no doubt. I had to get away from her. I didn't know where to go, so I just took off into the woods.

"Hilfe! Hilfe! Sie versucht, mich zu erschießen!" I called out for help, waving my arms around like a maniac. Fortunately, Yuri did not open fire. I did not know whether or not she pursued me; I was too scared to look back. I ran deeper into the woods, trying to escape from that psychopath Yuri. I did manage to put some distance between us, and the darkness and trees prevented her from seeing me. But unfortunately, the darkness also prevented me from seeing the path ahead. The fact that I only had one functioning eye didn't exactly help either. I stumbled over a tree stump and fell hard onto the ground. I felt a sharp pain in my right ankle. I knew that it was sprained. This was terrible timing.

Fortunately, I managed to make my way to the edge of the forest. I found a dirt path and followed it to the closest building. It was a large building with a brick façade. There was still a light shining through one of the windows, and I could faintly make out the figure of a person inside. I didn't have enough time to think or go over my options. I limped inside and entered that room.

The room was a classroom. There was a large blackboard and several smaller tables arranged in neat little rows. At the back of the room was a young girl, probably around 15 or 16. She was short, with long white hair. Her golden eyes widened a little when she saw me, but her face remained surprisingly emotionless.

"Hilf mir, mein Fräulein, gibt es ein Mädchen… das versucht, mich zu töten!" I pleaded. My voice was still hoarse from all the running. I repeated myself, but she didn't seem to understand me.

"Sorry. What was that?" She asked in Japanese. She had a calm, low voice. Unhuman almost. But that was of secondary concern; at least she seemed sane.

"There's a girl out there trying to shoot me," I replied, still struggling for breath, "She's crazy. She keeps on telling me that I'm in the afterlife."

"But you really are dead. This is the afterlife." She replied in the same low voice. Her expression didn't change either. Maybe she was crazy too. Meeting two crazy Japanese girls in one day—what were the odds? Was I in some mental asylum? Maybe the two were related somehow. I considered running out of the room to get more help, but my ankle was still in pain. And if this actually was a mental institution, the wisest thing to do was to wait until the doctors or guards arrived. Maybe I should just rest and find out more.

I closed the door and turned off the lights, hoping that Yuri wouldn't find me. I then grabbed a nearby chair and sat down by the wall, trying to take the pressure off of my ankle.

"So who's in charge here?" I asked.

"I am," she replied, standing up from her chair, "I'm the Student Body President." She slowly walked towards me. She seemed to glide across the ground, like a ghost or specter.

"Well, if this is the afterlife, prove it. Prove that I'm dead. Prove that I can't die." I wasn't really paying attention to my words. I was too busy trying to check the condition of my foot; the pain was excruciating.

"Very well then," the petite girl replied, "Hand Sonic, version one."

"Huh?"

Two bright blades materialized from her wrists. The glow from the blades illuminated the room with a faint blue light. I was stunned. It was impossible. How could something just materialize out of the air like that? It was sorcery. There was no logical explanation.

But before I could say anything, the girl rushed at me at an incredible speed. To my horror, I realized that one of the blades was pointed right at me. I tried to run, but my ankle sprained ankle prevented me from doing so. I was pinned against the wall. I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

The cold metal blade entered my ribcage, just below my heart. Just the force alone was enough to break my bones. I heard the sickening crunch of breaking bones and the felt the searing pain as the blade penetrated my ribs. The last thing I could remember was falling backwards and hitting my head on the wall. I blacked out.

* * *

><p><strong>Jargon Dictionary:<strong>

**Messerschmitt Me 410 Hornisse (Hornet)**

Hitler's favorite bomber destroyer, the Messerschmitt Me 410 was a heavy fighter/fast bomber employed by the Luftwaffe. It entered service in 1943, making it a relatively new aircraft. It proved to be a flexible platform, serving in roles varying from reconnaissance to bomber interception. These planes saw much success against unprotected Allied bomber formations, but their effectiveness decreased as the Allies developed newer tactics and fighters.

**Messerschmitt Me 262 Schwalbe (Swallow)**

The Messerschmitt Me 262 holds the distinction of the world's first operational jet fighter. Capable of speeds up to 556 miles per hour, the jet was faster than anything the Allied Powers possessed at the time. The jet was also heavily armed with four 30mm cannons, making it a highly dangerous adversary. Despite Allied air superiority towards the end of the war, the outnumbered Me-262 still managed to achieve an excellent 5:1 kill-loss ratio.

**Fieseler Fi 156 Storch (Stork)**

The simple yet ingenious Fieseler Fi 156 was a small utility aircraft employed by the Germans on both the Western and Eastern fronts. The aircraft was widely used for communications, medical evacuations, and reconnaissance. The plane was noted for its exceptionally short take-off and landing distances, which allowed it to operate from small makeshift airfields. When flown into a strong headwind, the Fi 156 can actually fly backwards.

**De Havilland DH.98 Mosquito (The author's favorite)**

Nicknamed the "Wooden Wonder", the British De Havilland DH.98 Mosquito was one of the most successful aircraft of World War II. The plane was a true "multirole" platform, successfully serving in tasks ranging from night fighting to tactical bombing. Made almost entirely out of wood, the plane was very fast and difficult to detect by radar. The plane was so elusive and devastating to the German night fighter force that Hermann Goring awarded German pilots two victories for shooting one down.


	3. Viennese Coffee

**Chapter 2: Viennese Coffee (Pak)  
><strong>

I bolted upright, gasping for air. Was it all a bad dream?

My hands frantically searched across my chest. Nothing. I looked down. Not a single scratch. I tried rotating my right ankle; there was no pain. I felt relieved; maybe it was a dream after all.

But as I sat up, my right arm brushed up upon something—something wet. I turned and looked. There was a white shirt drenched in blood. I slowly picked it up. There was a large cut on the front and an even larger gash on the back. The back was still dripping with blood. The cut perfectly matched the place where the Student Body President stabbed me. I could barely keep myself from vomiting.

It wasn't a dream, I realized. But how come I wasn't dead? I suddenly recalled what Yuri told me—no one can die in the afterlife. Maybe I was dead. But then again, maybe I was just lucky. Maybe it was all just a dream. Maybe the bloody shirt belonged to someone else.

"I have to get out of here," I muttered to myself. There were still people trying to kill me.

I got out of bed and checked my surroundings. It was morning outside; I could hear the birds chirping in the trees. The songs of skylarks was especially soothing. I saw some people walking and chatting in the distance. They all wore similar uniforms. Based on their age and dress, I reasoned that they were probably high school students coming to school.

I looked around the room. It seemed to be a school infirmary of some sort. There were still some boxes labelled with the Red Cross symbol. It was strangely reassuring to find something familiar. There were also some posters and books about public health and sanitation—again, all in Japanese.

I had the room all to myself, so I decided to scavenge the area for something useful. There was a set of clothes in one of the closets. It was the uniform similar to the one I wore yesterday. I put on the new clothes, adjusted my hair, and took off my eyepatch. I figured that my best option was to climb out the window and blend in with the other students. I also decided to bring along a large glass bottle of rubbing alcohol. Maybe if I were lucky, I could find the materials to make a good Molotov cocktail. I wasn't sure if Yuri and the Student Body President were real or just characters in my dream, but I didn't want to take any risks. The bottle was no use against a gun, but if the Student Body President tried to stab me again, I could at least have something to defend myself.

I tried to move as silently as possible, but I've always been somewhat clumsy. I accidentally brushed against a bookshelf. Some folders fell from the top shelf, barely missing my feet. They hit the ground with a loud bang.

The door, seemingly on cue, slid open. I clutched the glass bottle in my right hand, ready to face off against the assailants.

"So you're finally awake!" a familiar voice proclaimed, "Hope you enjoyed your nap."

It was Yuri Nakamura's voice. She strolled inside the room, with a confidant grin on her face. She was wearing the same sailor fuku uniform, but this time with a white beret cap. And she wasn't alone either. She was flanked by two large males, who acted like her bodyguards. Both wore crème-colored business suits. The one on the left was about my height. He adjusted his glasses and looked at me stoically. I knew some taekwondo. And with some luck, I might have been able to take him down. The other, however, was much bigger. He had the build of Max Schmeling. He folded his arms across his chest, as if preparing for a fight.

I raised the bottle over my head, threatening to throw it. Neither of the males, however, showed any sign of fear or trepidation. The guy with glasses pulled Yuri to the ground. The big guy charged at me in a straight line. I had expected him go around the two beds in front of me, but he just leapt across them.

"You want to die, you damn Cyclops?" he shouted as he hurled through the air. I tried to whack him on the head with the bottle, but he anticipated the move and grabbed my arm. There was nothing I could do. I was thrown off my feet and tackled to the ground. I heard the bottle shatter a moment later.

"He's down, Yurippe!" I heard the big guy yell. He had me pinned down on my stomach. My arm was twisted at a painful angle. He was a judo master, no doubt. I could hardly breathe, let along move my limbs.

"Nice work, Matsushita the 5th," Yuri complemented. I heard two people's footsteps coming towards me. There was nothing I could do to stop it. That Matsushita guy had me pinned.

Soon, Yuri came into view. She stood right above me, with her hands on her hips. She was so close that I could see up the white panties under her skirt. She had a triumphant smile on her face. I just turned away in disgust.

She grabbed my chin and tilted my head in her direction. She was squatting down now. "Listen, Ralf," she said, "We're here to help you. I'm not going to shoot you, I promise." She look was more serious, and her voice changed to match her mood.

I said nothing. There was a long silence.

"We won't harm you. I promise. We're on your side."

"Prove it then," I grunted. It was very hard to breathe and talk. My ribcage was threatening to cave in. "For starters, you can stop trying to crush me."

"Matsushita, let him go."

"But Yurippe, he'll…"

"Just do it."

I felt the pressure being lifted off of me. Yuri extended her hand, offering to help me get off the ground. I rejected the offer, resisting the temptation to spit at her face.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, trying to catch my breath.

"We want you to join the Afterlife Battlefront."

"I thought that it was the Not-Yet-Dead Battlefront."

"Yeah. We change our name a lot. We can never seem to agree on one name."

"And if I refuse?"

"You'll get obliterated if you don't fight Tenshi."

"Who's the Angel?"

"The girl you ran into yesterday. The one who stabbed you. White hair. Short. Golden eyes. She calls herself the Student Body President."

It all came back to me. I recalled everything that happened the night before. She was the one who stabbed me, not Yuri. Yuri probably could have easily shot me while I was running away, but she didn't. She didn't even try. Angel was the enemy, not Yuri. I felt bad for treating her so badly earlier, but I reminded myself that I couldn't trust her either.

"You know," Yuri continued, "If it weren't for us, you probably would have been obliterated yesterday. We found you right after she stabbed you and took you here to recover."

I looked down in embarrassment. "Um… thanks," I muttered, hating myself for my previous behavior, "I'm sorry about what just happened. I really am."

"Does this mean that you'll join us?" Yurippe asked. She extended her hand a third time. She seemed to cheer up a bit.

I did not hesitate this time. Angel was my enemy. Anyone who tried to stab me was the enemy. No one had the right to "obliterate" me; no one has the right to take my life away from me. I still wasn't sure what Yuri meant by "obliterated", but this was no time for questions. This was a time for forging alliances.

"Count me in. I will do everything I can to ensure the elimination of our enemy," I grabbed her hand and gave her a firm handshake. "I shall not disappoint you, Yuri."

The smile on her face couldn't be bigger. She laughed. "The Afterlife Battlefront is happy to have go-getters like you on our side. Welcome to the Afterlife Battlefront, Ralf Pak. We are rebels against the god. Welcome to our rebellion."

For the first time in forever, I felt happiness. I felt like I've found a new family—a new goal in life. A common goal. I was a part of something wonderful. I looked around. Both the guy with glasses and Matsushita were smiling.

"I still have a few questions though," I said, "I'm afraid I'm very new here."

"Let's talk over some coffee," Yurippe suggested, "You Europeans like coffee, right?"

"Coffee? I love coffee," I responded. I haven't had any in so long. Coffee was a luxury in Germany, especially during the war. The idea that I would be able to enjoy a nice cup of coffee was so refreshing, especially after all I've been through.

I couldn't help but laugh a little, recalling the events of the day. Just a few minutes ago, I thought that my life was going to end. I thought that it was all over. But in the course of three mere minutes, my enemies became my friends. Not just friends, but also comrades. Allied in a fight against Angel.

I laughed. Fortune was one my side. I was going to enjoy a nice cup of coffee with one of the cutest girls I've met. Her friends seemed like really nice people too. Fortune can be so fickle sometimes.

A minutes later, I found myself in what seemed to be the school cafeteria. The place was huge. It was as big as a large aircraft hangar, and it looked like one too, with a steel frame and a curved ceiling. My Viennese coffee arrived, far more impressive than I had imagined—superb, delicious, and accompanied by three honey biscuits. I started at it in fascination for a long while, until I finally dared to pick up the long-handled spoon and, with a sign of ecstasy, plunge it into the cream. My mouth was watering. I glanced over at Yurippe, who looked at me curiously, clearly amused by my fascination with coffee. I smiled. I wanted to make this moment last as long as possible, to stretch it all the way to eternity.

The guy with glasses came back with a can of Coca-Cola. "I'm Takamatsu," he introduced himself, opening the bottle of soda, "We'd all like to know more about you and your skills. Where are you from, Pak?"

"I went to school in Munich, but I was born in a rural village in Karafuto Prefecture," I answered, "The village was named…"

The village. Crap. What was its name? I couldn't remember. I remember that I'm from Sakhalin Island, but what was the name of that village? It was a coal-mining town, but what was its name? Why can't I seem to remember anything from my childhood?

"I can't seem to remember the specific village…" I continued, my voice trailing, "I must have hit my head at some point." Crap, did I have amnesia too?

"Amnesia is quite common here," Takamatsu reassured me, "Many of us hit our heads before dying." He nonchalantly took a sip from his can.

I scratched my head in confusion. My recollections of my personal life were very vague. I had two sisters—one older and one younger. Dad worked in the coal mines, and Mom was factory worker. I could remember their faces, but not their names. I couldn't even recall the name of my school or the names of my friends. My memories about Germany were a little clearer, and I could remember the names of most of my superiors. Come to think of it, which one of my superiors ordered me to fly that night? I was not a certified pilot, and I had no training regarding flying in the dark. A novice pilot flying alone at night was suicidal, especially with all the British night-fighters that prowled the area. The person who ordered the mission must have been extremely desperate or reckless. But why? Which one of my commanders made such a rash decision? And why did I not point it out?

I hit my hand against the side of my head, trying to restart my mind. What could I still remember? Let's see. The Messerschmitt Me-410. It had a length of 12.4 meters and a wingspan of 16.39 meters. It was powered by two Daimler-Benz DB 603A V12 engines. The top speed was around 620 kilometers per hour, about 45 km/h faster than the Soviet LaGG-3 fighter. I could still remember all the technical details about my projects. I just couldn't remember much about myself.

"Yeah. Sorry guys," I apologized, "I probably did hit my head. My memories are really spotty."

"It's alright," Matsushita reassured me, "You're not the only one. Some of our members can't even remember their names." But now that Matsushita mentioned it, my name did sound a little strange. My German name was Ralf, without a doubt, and my family was certainly Pak. But I was less certain about my Korean name: Jin. I couldn't recall ever being called that, at least not prior to my arrival in Europe. Was Jin just a nickname? Jin Pak. Advancing modesty. It had a nice ring to it. I've read about a Korean Imjin War general with the same name, and I knew that it was a real, if not generic, name. But was it my given name? And why would someone name their child "advancing modesty"?

"You said that you were from Karafuto Prefecture? Karafuto Prefecture was formally dissolved on June 1, 1949," Takamatsu resumed the conversation, "The entire Sakhalin Island became Soviet territory."

My heart seemed to skip a beat. I had a bubbly feeling inside of me. Was I happy? Why did I feel so happy all of a sudden? I hadn't been in Karafuto Prefecture in years. Why was I so happy that the Soviets unified the island? Did I have a lot of Russian friends? My mother was a Russian-Chinese mix; that's how I ended up with this weird reddish hair. She taught me both languages, but I couldn't recall any economic ties with the Soviets. Was it because of political allegiances? Heck, what were my political views? I had always hated the Nazis, but I couldn't remember anything else. Have I forgotten my political beliefs as well?

"Takamatsu seems smart, but he's actually stupid," Yurippe chirped in, breaking the silence.

I snapped out of my psychological panic. My head started to hurt a little bit. Maybe I should just stop thinking about my past. It'll all come back to me eventually. Victims of post-traumatic amnesia usually recover their memories. It just takes time.

It was time for a mental coffee break, I thought to myself. I just needed to calm down and take a few deep breaths. My memories were going to come back to me eventually.

"So do you still remember your date of death?" Matsushita asked, sipping from a comically large bowl of udon.

"It was the night of July 23rd, 1944. My plane was shot down over Dusseldorf by the Royal Air Force."

"I see," Takamatsu replied, adjusting his glasses. There was a short pause, "So you worked with the Luftwaffe?"

I shook my head. "No, just Messerschmitt. I was an engineer working on improving Messerschmitt designs."

Takamatsu nodded once. He then turned to Yurippe and whispered something into her ear. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I did see Yurippe nod a few times.

"Welcome to 2010, Ralf," Matsushita proclaimed, louder than usual. I could tell that he was just trying to prevent me from hearing the conversation between Yurippe and Takamatsu. "Most of our members are from the 21st century, but we do get a few strays ever now and then. There's this one girl in our Battlefront. Her name is Shiina Eri. He was a female ninja in feudal Japan. She makes us seem a hundred men stronger."

So I was not only in the afterlife but also in the future? Incredible. I looked around. The future sure was a lot more… futuristic, I guess. (I'm an engineer, not a poet; quit judging me). I was impressed with the technological progress. I've read about fluorescent lighting in magazines, but I had never seen one before. Here, in this school, fluorescent lights were everywhere. Why didn't I notice that before? A lot of the students and teachers carried around hand-held screens that served as both radios and televisions. I was very anxious to learn how those things worked. I studied quite a bit of electrical engineering back in Germany, and I had great hopes for future technologies. However, the screen that these students were using were beyond my wildest dreams.

"Ralf," Yuri interrupted, snapping her fingers, "There's a place we would like to show you. I think that you will be very interested."

"Meet us at the Principal's Office after school. We've circled the location on the map," Takamatsu added. He handed me a map of the schoolyard, "The password is 'No god. No Buddha. No angels.'" I quickly jot down the password on the paper.

"Your class schedule and backpack have been already prepared," Yurippe added, handing me a backpack and another slip of paper, "Take the time to catch up on modern history and technology. Oh, and try not to act like a model student. People get obliterated for doing that."

"And don't mind these other students too much," Takamatsu added, "They're not human like us. We call them non-player characters."

As if on cue, a loud mechanical beep rang out on the school speaking system. The students around me started to file out of the room. "That's the alarm bell," Matsushita informed me, "You have five minutes to get to class."

I slung the backpack on my shoulder, bid farewell to my three mentors, and joined the battalion of students filing out of the cafeteria. I still had many questions on my mind. What did Yurippe mean by "obliterated"? What was the mission of the SSS? And was the Student Body President actually an angel? There were so many questions that still needed to be answered.

But I had to push those thoughts out of my head. I had to concentrate on my studies. I was anxious to learn about the latter 20th century and all its technological developments. It was a good time for me to catch up on world events. I might even be able to use the newest technologies in my future airplane designs.

I still wanted my memories back, but I was okay without them. I couldn't remember many details about my previous life, but I do remember that it was a very painful and grim existence. The war was terrible for everyone. Millions were dying on the battlefields, and so much material was being wasted on pointless destruction. No one was safe. The afterlife, in contrast, was so calm. For the most part, the students around me seemed cordial; I was easily able to strike conversations with some of them. I didn't have to deal with abrasive bosses or worry about enemy air raids. Heck, I didn't even have to worry about death! I had a nice group of friends and cheap coffee to boot. I was starting to enjoy my new existence.

* * *

><p><strong>Jargon Dictionary:<strong>

**Max Schmeling (1905 – 2005)**

Maximillian Adolph Otto Siegfried Schmeling was a famous German boxer who held the title of the heavyweight champion of the world between 1930 and 1932. In Germany, he was viewed as a hero, and the Nazis promoted him as the paradigm of German supremacy over the rest of the world. However, he was defeated by Joe Louis in 1938. He served as an elite paratrooper during the WWII but was discharged after a knee injury suffered at the Battle of Crete. He later campaigned for better treatment of Allied POWs and helped hide Jewish children from the Nazis.

**Karafuto Prefecture**

Also known as South Sakhalin, Karafuto Prefecture was the Imperial Japanese administrative division responsible for governing the southern half of Sakhalin Island, a large island east of Russia. Russia ceded the resource-rich territory to Japan after the Russo-Japanese War, and it became a prefecture in 1907. The prefecture had a population of 406,000 (the size of Oakland, California), which included a considerable number of Koreans forcibly relocated to work in the coal mines and oil fields. Soviet troops invaded the island in August, 1945, and the territory became a part of Russia.

**Düsseldorf**

The majestic city of Düsseldorf is the capital of the German state of North Rhine-Westphalia. The city, currently home to 11 million, is located near the Dutch border and serves as a major hub for international business and finance. The city now hosts a large Japanese population, although this was not true in Ralf's time. During World War II, the city hosted a large number of factories and oil facilities and was heavily bombed by the Allied forces. The city was liberated in April 1945.

**Gyeongsang General Jin Pak (1560 – 1567)**

Jin Pak (or Park, depending on the Romanization system), was a Korean Joseon Dynasty Army general, who served with distinction in the Imjin War, a 16th century military conflict between Korea and Japan. Initially defeated by the Japanese at the Battle of Miryang, he redeemed his honor in the victories at Yeongcheon and Gyeongju. He was also a charismatic and skilled diplomat, convincing Japanese General Sayaka to defect and surrender his forces. He was killed in 1567, after a Chinese general falsely accused him of disobeying orders.


	4. Wernher von Braun

**Chapter 3: Wernher von Braun (Pak)  
><strong>

It's a funny thing. I never actually graduated from high school in my previous life. I never received my Mittlere Reife, even though I had already graduated college.

When I was 15, I started taking classes at Munich Technical College. I became intrigued by the newest developments in aviation. The concept was as magnificent as it was daunting. Just a century ago, who would have thought that human beings could fly into the stratosphere? The idea of machinery carrying humans ten miles above the Earth was pure science fiction. And the idea of such machines battling each other at this altitude was sacrilege. The sky was supposed to be the sacred realm of god.

But as time passed, beautiful dreams turned into living nightmares. Machines that were once made to carry passengers and hope were converted to carry weapons of war. Bombs fell from the sky. Airplanes fell too. Humanity fell.

It was just too tragic.

I spent most of my day looking over my world history textbook. I've memorized most of it by the end of the day. The war ended in an Allied victory. Germany capitulated on May 8th, 1945. Japan surrendered on September 2nd, 1945, after the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. After the war, tensions developed between the Soviet Union and America. Korea was split in half, the communists gained power in Eastern Europe and China, and most of the British Empire eventually gained independence. My textbook went on to describe the Cold War and ended with the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991. The events of the 21st century were only mentioned in passing.

For some reason, none of this really surprised me. I hadn't known about the atomic bomb, but people were always looking for quicker ways to kill each other. I was, however, acquainted with Wernher von Braun and his experiments in rocketry. I met him once at a conference at Pennemünde in 1943. We even got to share a few drinks together after the conference. He encouraged me to study National Socialism and to chase me dreams. He seemed to be a friendly and charming fellow, but deep-down, I hated him; I hated his long-range offensive missiles. I hated the idea of strangers killing each other from thousands of miles away. Now, at least according to my textbook, there are tens of thousands of his death devices waiting below the surface, ready for mankind's final day. Humanity has guided missiles and bombs; we have weapons that never fail and never hesitate. We have weapons that never ask and never question. The day when the entire world is destroyed is but a nightmare away. This nightmare became reality because of Wernher von Braun and his lackeys. This nightmare became true because of men like me.

The more I thought about this stuff, the more depressed I felt. Throughout the day, I tried a variety of means to distance myself from the conundrums of philosophy. I tried listening to the teachers, but it was hopeless. Mathematics was a cinch, especially with the new compact hand-held computers known as TI-84s. Those things were so small, and yet they were multitudes more powerful than the best supercomputers during the war. You could draw graphs on them too! If I had one of those things during my time at Messerschmitt, my productivity could have easily improved ten-fold. What impressed me the most, though, were the laptop computers. Like the TI-84 calculators, those things could do complicated mathematical computations in mere seconds. They all had large color screens that could do everything from playing movies to word-processing. It took me a while to figure out how to use those the computers, but their capabilities were unparalleled.

I was less impressed by the developments in chemistry and physics. Newtonian physics was still Newtonian physics. Force still equaled (mass) x (acceleration), and voltage still equaled (current) x (resistance). The ideal gas law was still the ideal gas law, and Le Chatelier's Principle was still Le Chatelier's Principle. The chemistry textbook mentioned that there were some impressive developments in biochemistry, but I cared not for microtubules and the Krebs Cycle.

During Japanese class, though, I was hopelessly lost, as I hadn't used hiragana in years. Maybe it was a blessing since Yurippe told me to not act like a model student. English was a piece of cake; I was fluent in the language and could recite many of Shakespeare's works from memory.

Most of the NPC students were friendly. Some acted as if they've known me for quite a while. Many boys went out and played soccer together during lunch break. They seemed so peaceful and happy, just chatting away about the latest movies, exams and baseball games. There were a few other Koreans in the school as well. They really liked talking about this one "video game" called _Starcraft_ and this genre of music called K-pop. It was pretty catchy stuff, I have to admit, and the girls made me drool. I really wanted to hang out with them after school, but I remembered that I had to go see Yurippe in the principal's office.

The map Takamatsu gave me was pretty clearly marked, but I still had a hard time finding the place. The school was absolutely enormous, and it contained a mind-boggling labyrinth of hallways and corridors more complicated than the mechanics of a Panzerkampfwagen VI Tiger II. But eventually, after numerous dead ends, I finally reached at the destination.

There was another guy ahead of me though. He wore a uniform similar to the ones Takamatsu and Matsushita wore. I figured that he was also a member of the SSS. In contrast to most of the NPCs, this guy looked somewhat… eccentric. He had disheveled purple hair and equally messy attire. He ran forward and pushed the door open. Without any warning, a huge pendulum hammer dropped from the ceiling and crashed into him. He was sent flying window at the end of the hallway. There was a slowly fading scream, which was followed by a dull thud as his body hit the ground.

"Noda is a moron," Yuri emerged out the door, rubbing her temples in frustration.

"This was his own trap too," I heard Takamatsu's voice from the inside of the room, "I'll remind him to reset it after he recovers."

"This is so stupid." Another girl emerged from the doorway. She wore a seifuku like Yuri's, along with a long black scarf. She looked somewhat strange as well. The weather was too warm for scarfs, but it could have been just another fashion statement. I've never really cared for that fancy stuff, anyhow.

The scarf girl was the first to notice me. I saw her face twitch slightly when she saw me. And then, she was gone, fading into a dark blur.

I didn't even have time to think. There was a sudden zipping sound. The next thing I knew, I was pinned to the ground. There was a searing pain in my throat. I tried to call for help, but no sound came out. I looked down. There was a 4-inch shuriken lodged deep in the side of my neck. Dark blood oozed out of the wound. I could feel the blood and saliva pooling at the back of my throat as well. I could barely breathe. I was drowning in my own blood.

The girl with the black scarf was standing over me, with her foot pinning my chest to the ground. She held what seemed like a katana, with the tip pointed straight at my trachea.

"Prepare to die, thy dastardly Joseon spy," she said coldly, "Jeong Mun-Bu shall fail: Hamgyong shall fall." Great. After running into one rifle-toting militia leader and one psychotic student body president, I bump into one of Toyotomi Hideyoshi's ninja assassins. What were the odds? I guess I was just really bad at staying alive. Or maybe I was just really unlucky. Or maybe it was the fact that I was facing a real ninja from feudal Japan.

The ninja lifted the blade and flung it down at my neck. I struggled, but to no avail. I couldn't do anything. Couldn't move. Couldn't scream. I could only watch as the tip of the katana rapidly approaching my throat.

"Stop!" Yurippe called out. The ninja reacted instantly. The blade seemed to freeze in midair. "He's one of ours."

The ninja girl froze. She slowly stood up and put her sword back into its scabbard. Yurippe approached me. She flinched and grimaced when she saw my wound.

I sat up, trying to ask for help. The blood that pooled in my throat shifted downwards. I started coughing violently. Blood sprayed into the air. The feeling of the jagged teeth of the shuriken grinding into my flesh made me want to vomit. I watched numbly as the blood from my wound flowed down my shirt and pooled on the ground. It looked like a scene from a macabre horror film. I started to feel faint.

"Sorry, Pak. This might hurt a bit," Yurippe approached me, putting her hand on the shuriken, "Fujimaki? Matsushita? Restrain him." That wasn't not a good start. The two grabbed my arms and held down my legs. I didn't struggle this time. I just gave up trying to fight and focused on chocking back the screams of agony.

Yurippe grabbed the shuriken and played around for a few seconds, reigniting the fire in my neck. She tried to tilt the blade, to no avail. More blood sprayed into the air, but she only managed to sink the shuriken deeper.

"What do we do?" a panicky-looking boy asked, "That blade is pretty deep."

"We could just cut off his head," Fujimaki suggested, "He's gonna die anyway. Might as well make it quick."

Yurippe shook her head. "No, Decapitations take too long to heal. Looks like that we'll just have to wing it."

Without warning, Yurippe yanked the shuriken as hard as she could. The disk was dislodged, but it also ripped a long strip of flesh all the way down to my shoulder. A geyser of blood erupted. My body seized at the unexpected trauma. A loud, unending melody of pain filled the hallway. The last thing I saw before blacking out was the horrified expression on Yurippe's blood-covered face.

* * *

><p><strong>Jargon Dictionary<strong>

**Mittlere Reife**

A certificate awarded to students after ten years of schooling in Germany. It's roughly comparable with the American high school diploma or the British GCSE.

**Pennemünde**

The Pennemünde Army Research Center was a German military testing ground operation ground operating from 1936 to 1945. Located on the Baltic Sea island of Usedom, the facility was widely used to test guided missiles and rockets for the German military. It is most closely associated with the infamous V-2 rocket, the world's first long-range ballistic missile and is widely considered to be the birthplace of modern rocketry and space flight.

**Panzerkampfwagen VI Tiger II**

The Tiger II was a heavy tank used by the Germans towards the end of World War II. A successor to the famous Tiger I, it combined thick, sloped armor with a long barreled 88 Kampfwagenkanone 43l/71 gun. The tank was protected by 100 to 180 mm of frontal armor, and its gun was the most powerful anti-tank gun to be put on a tank with a rotatable turret to reach service. The tank's mobility, armor, and armament made it a fearsome opponent. However, the tank suffered a host of reliability problems, which were caused by the complicated and overburdened drivetrain originally designed for a lighter vehicle. The over-engineered tank was also very difficult to manufacture, and fewer than 500 units were produced.

**Jeong Mun-Bu (1565 – 1624)**

Jeong Mun-bu was a Korean statesman and general known for his achievements during the Imjin War. He passed the civil service examination in 1585 and became an officer of the military training department. In 1561, he was appointed to the position of the Bukpyeongsa of Hamgyong Province (in modern-day North Korea), promoting public education. After the Japanese occupied the province in 1562, Jeong formed the Righteous Army. His army of six thousand men defeated the Japanese soldiers in successive victories, eventually forcing the Japanese to retreat. After the war, he was later falsely accused of abetting Park Heung-gu's revolt and put to death. Today, however, he is honored as a war hero, humanitarian, and patriot.

**Toyotomi Hideyoshi (1536/1537 – 1598)**

Toyotomi Hideyoshi was a prominent daimyo and statesman of the Sengoku period. He is known for completing the 16th-century unification of Japan. Born into a peasant family, Hideyoshi enlisted as a foot soldier in Oda Nobunaga's army and distinguished himself in combat. In 1573, he overthrew two powerful daimyos to become the lord of Nagahama. After Nobunaga's death in 1582, Hideyoshi took over his army and set out to conquer the other provinces of Japan. His conquests marked the beginning of the Momoyama period. He successfully formed an alliance with Tokugawa Ieyasu and conquered the provinces of Kii, Shikoku, Etchu, and Kyushu. In 1590, he defeated the Late Hojo clan at the Seige of Odawara, thus eliminating the last resistance to his authority and unifying Japan. During his rule, he launched a number of political and cultural reforms that would shape the Japanese political and cultural landscape for centuries to come. However, his attempts (in 1592 and 1597) to conquer China and Korea were unsuccessful, and the Japanese forces withdrew after his death.

* * *

><p><strong>Closing Dialogues <strong>

**Pak: **Dima! Why did you kill me again? I've died three times already. In two days, no less. How many more times will I have to die throughout the story?!

**Dima: **As many times as I want. What are you going to do about it?

**Pak:** I can't go on like this. My throat is still hurting from Shiina's shuriken. Can't I at least get a weapon to defend myself?

**Dima: **Fine. I'll give you a weapon in the next chapter if agree to read me these fan mail letters. (Hands over a few envelops.)

**Pak (sighs): **Alright. Fine. (Starts to view letters.) A man named C.V. Ford would like to ask why I still wear an eyepatch, even though Yui's paralysis healed in the afterlife. Yeah, Dima. Why do you not give me my eye back? Do you enjoy tormenting me, you little sadist?

**Dima: **A very good question. If you haven't done so already, I would encourage you to go view my own sketch of Pak. Go search "Ralf Jin Pak" on Google Images. It should be the first result. C V Ford asked whether Ralf will get his eye back, since many "previous life" injuries and disabilities, including Yui's paralysis, are "healed" in the afterlife.

It is my theory that only extremely debilitating injuries are "healed". Minor injuries and disabilities may continue to exist. For instance, Takeyama and Takamatsu still wear glasses, which suggest that their visual problems persist in the afterlife. I reasoned that, for Pak, the loss of his eye was not a life-changing incident. And as a result, he does not get his eye back in the afterlife.

**Pak:** Not a life-changing incident? How about I rip out one of your eyes, huh? I suppose you'll just write it off as a minor ordeal? Don't you know how much it hurt? To be hit by a…

**Dima**: No spoilers!

**Pak: **Oh, right. Fine. But I would still really like to have my eye back though. And a decent weapon.

**Dima: **And to our reviewers, we would really like to thank you for your support. The reviews and faves have been very encouraging. The private message conversations with other authors have been very rewarding as well. Especially the ones with C V Ford. I might publish those conversation logs in a separate file for your entertainment. They made me laugh so much.

**Pak:** Please don't. They were so embarrassing. Please do not publish them.

**Dima: **Nonsense. They were hilarious. In any case, I still have not yet received any requests for new characters. If you would like to add your own OC into the story, please see the instructions in the Prologue chapter.

**Pak:** Preferably a girl! A hot one. Like the ones I saw in the K-Pop music videos this morning. And have her be my girlfriend. Please! I've never had a girlfriend, and I'm nineteen. Von Braun was always surrounded by ladies, and he wasn't nearly as handsome as me. I felt so envious… But anyway, please submit an OC. I would really like a girlfriend. Or maybe even a harem. (Starts drooling).

**Dima: **I'm even older than you, Ralf. And I also have no girlfriend. How do you think I feel? I have to spend Valentine's Day in my chemistry lab, working on PCRs and calculus problem sets. I tried making milkshakes last year, but no one came to my yard. Forever alone...

**Pak**: I feels. But at least you can look forward to the sale on chocolate next week.

**Dima:** Yeah. I suppose that's true. Please leave a comment and/or add this story to your favorites. Enjoy Valentine's Day!


End file.
